


Nine Stupid Little Killers

by InkSplatteredParchement, writingandchocolatemilk



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Multi, Murder Mystery, Organized Crime, Seven Little Killers, aph
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-04
Updated: 2015-10-01
Packaged: 2018-03-16 07:22:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3479369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InkSplatteredParchement/pseuds/InkSplatteredParchement, https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingandchocolatemilk/pseuds/writingandchocolatemilk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nobody would expect him to be so despicable. Nobody would of thought it was him who painted the street with the dark red blood of Vash's colleagues. And now, he came face to face to him. The puppetmaster who swung his marionettes to dance to his chaotic orchestra.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [To the readers of NF!](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=To+the+readers+of+NF%21).
  * Inspired by [Yeah THAT infamous story](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/101168) by Lucky-Angel135. 



> I do not own hetalia, all rights belong to it's original creator.  
> Rated M for graphic content in later chapters. Triggers will also be posted in chapters that they apply too.  
> Massive shout-out to my beta's! Without them this little project would of never happened!  
> Please this is a rewrite of the 'infamous' Seven Little Killers, the first chapter is suppose to parallel to the original story, other then that, it's a completely different plot!

The pen deeply etched itself into the frail paper, leaving a hasty trail behind it. A gloved hand grasped the paper, making it smudge slightly. A low growl escaped the man’s jaw that inflicted the heavy signature. He was the representative of Switzerland or, more commonly known among the people, as Vash Zwingli.

He shuffled the document; the work worsened his headache, sending it throbbing like a pulse against his temples. Vash snatched up the chipped coffee mug from his side and took a gulp of coffee, the foul taste licking his throat. He slammed down the mug; its contents nearly spilling on his pile of finished bills. The coffee quickly sent shocks down his spine.

Vash picked up another document and shuffled the now messy pile of documents waiting for his approval. The words on the document soon became a large blob of black ink. Vash blinked his emerald eyes, but the words did not seem to separate from their tight bond. He moved the document from the centre of his desk and placed his elbows on the table, resulting in a loud thump! He brought his hands to his face; he muttered a string of Italian, which eventually turned into a groan.

Eventually, his thoughts drifted from the task that kept him up long into the day. He thought about fixing his old clay-shooter, it was far too expensive to buy a new one—he may as well buy a horse! A deafening ring shattered the unearthly silence that lingered in his empty halls. Vash snatched up the phone and punched in the green phone button.

He brought the phone to his ear. “What!” He snarled into the phone.

 

“V-Vash!” A gentle voice replied, shock clear in its tone.

“Elise!” Vash exclaimed, nearly dropping the phone into his array of documents. He wished he could take that horrid greeting back. “How are you?” He said sternly, quickly discarding the guilt.

“Vash please don’t worry about me,” Elise said, her voice scattering in fear. “I’m worried about you, I just heard on the news.”

“What did you hear!?” He demanded, “What was that demented Austrian telling you!?”

“Vash! It’s all over the news…” Elise trailed off; her normal calmness seeming to be breaking as a second flies by. “… Bern is on fire.”

Vash nearly dropped his phone, cursing, as he attempted to turn on the radio. “Elise,” his voice relaxed from earlier, “Stay at Austria’s until I come to collect you,” He said, feeling like someone shoved a dirty sock in his mouth when that aristocrat’s name passed his lips.

“Please, be careful,” Elise said, her voice still shrouded in fear.  
Hearing her as shaky as a rocking horse hit Vash heavily, knowing that he couldn’t comfort her felt like his nation dissolved.

“Elise, I promise,” he said, bringing his finger to the ‘End Call button.’ He pressed the red button, hearing the echoing beeping in his ears.

Vash finally turned his chair, his boots dragging across the timber floor. He dug his fingernails into the armrests before standing up. He walked towards the window, watching the brewing storm of smoke and ashes grow from the southern east of his city. The fire traveled like the ocean on high tide, quickly swallowing everything in its path. He bit his lip, knowing he had nowhere to escape to; if he tried, he knew he would only burn to an overcooked crisp.

Vash heard a crash that rung through his already pounding head. Vash snarled in a string of different languages under his breath. First the fire, now what seems like someone was breaking in. Vash’s eyebrows knitted together—why was everything going wrong now? His emerald eyes trailed along his timber floorboards, looking across for his slightly raised floorboard that hid his firearms from sight.

Vash’s glare finally found this floorboard. He walked over; the metal soles of his boots echoing louder than the window shatter from earlier. He grabbed either side of the board, digging his nails into the wood. He tore away the plank, a large ripping sound filled in his small office.

He grabbed the first gun he saw, a rifle with its barrel hidden away by a single pale blue cloth. He tore away the cloth, revealing the rifle’s long barrel. As a usual protocol, he cocked the gun, checking that he didn’t leave a magazine in the gun. He stood up, keeping the gun in its cocked position.

Vash returned to the side of his old desk, looking over his various array of drawers and cabinets. He finally saw the cabinet with a gleaming lock, protecting his ammunition. He dug his free hand into his green leather jacket’s pocket and pulled it out, revealing a key with a gold dog tag dangling wildly. He shoved the key into the lock and turned it, smiling when he heard a click.

He pulled the steel cabinet open by the dog tag, revealing several types of bullets and magazines. He moved his hand in the ammunition drawer, filing through it as if he was a taxman looking through his files. He felt a small grin cross his face when he found the magazine that fit into the rifle he held.

Vash shoved the magazine in, satisfied when the magazine clicked into place. He pushed the cocked gun into position, making it ready to blast the bullets into his possible intruder whenever Vash demanded. The Swiss finally exited the safety of his office and into the land where the intruder roamed free.

Vash kept his grasp tight on the gun, making sure each of his steps echoed in the otherwise silent halls. He found himself at the stairway that led to the lower floor, where the shattering noise seemed to come from. Vash walked down the stairs, the wood screeching under the weight of his foot. He skipped the last couple of steps, landing with a thud on the dark wooden floor.

He staggered, feeling a shock travel along his ankles. He continued to walk in the normally silent halls, waiting for the intruder to make even a small noise to indicate where this idiot is hiding. Vash continued to walk, falling into a silence so the imposter didn’t learn his whereabouts. The air soon found itself dead again, lingering only for the deep breaths that the man took as he continued down the hallway.

Vash wished he knew where the little fucker was. He observed his surroundings, watching the light becoming more tinged with orange light, alerting him that the fire is almost at his residence. A small hiss escaped Vash’s jaw; his curiosity to find the imposter growing into an unshakable desire to shoot them.

Vash felt like he was in luck when a shattering sound filled the dormant airwaves. He turned his head, getting a mouthful of his blonde hair. He quickly spat it out, tasting the cheap shampoo he used. He turned around, continuing to creep in his hallways. The shattering continued to get louder with each cautious step Vash took.

Vash barely made it to the stairwell when he caught the first glimpse of his intruder. A white ski mask seemed to hide his face from Vash’s hawk-like glare. He wore a black uniform, reminding Vash of the kind François used to wear in the 1700s. The masked man ran up the stairs like an elephant, making Vash’s pounding head edge closer to a migraine.

Vash swung his rifle over his left shoulder and grabbed the railing. He followed the masked imposter to his second story, the already weaken steps threatening to give under his weight. He finally reached what seemed to be the deserted second floor and glanced both left and right, hoping the intruder would still be in his sights. He let out a string of French curses and turned towards his bedroom. The last thing he wanted was the trespasser in his personal dorm.

He begun to click his heels against the wooden floors, alerting the invader that he wasn’t far away. An Italian curse escaped his jaw when he saw his door slightly open.

Vash swung his rifle back into his free hand, getting ready to shoot at whoever had dared cross him while he was vulnerable. Vash ignored ignored the flames threatening to destroy his house flickering at his window frame. Vash knocked his left shoulder against the dark red oak door, forcing the door to snap open, slamming into the plaster wall behind it.

Vash saw the man fidgeting with his windowsill. Vash aimed his rifle at the trespasser’s chest. “I’ll give you to the count of three to return what you stole and leave without a chest full of lead.” He hissed from between his teeth.

The imposter did not abide by Vash’s demands. Instead, he drew a sword from the hilt at his belt Vash idiotically overlooked.

The sword seemed to be a medieval make, glinting in the orange aura of the flaring flames. Vash hesitated before pulling the trigger; the weapon reacted within seconds. Fortunately for the imposter, Vash’s headache had taken its toll on his aim, making every shot miss by a hair’s width.

The masked imposter swiftly moved towards Vash, the sword moving into an attack position. The imposter swung the sword with incredible strength. Vash moved his rifle from is upright position and used its barrel to defend himself from the lethal blow.

The imposter, Vash’s attacker, stumbled back as if he was shocked by the Swiss-man’s sudden reaction, Vash let out a low growl, angered that someone dared to come onto his land and had tried to kill him.

The attacker deftly moved his sword back into a forward position before darting towards Vash again. The sword swung itself high in the air, before arcing back down towards his opponent. Vash quickly leaped out the way, landing with his side against his wooden bedframe. Vash felt a temporary pain flare in his side. He noticed his rifle was no longer in his hands, but had been flung against the other side of the room.

Vash swore in a multitude of languages in his mind–why is he acting so idiotic today!? Vash’s glare trailed back to his purser, who was readying to attack him once again. The swordsman lunged, his sword raised high. Vash could just make out the flame’s reflection against the polished metal of the sword.

The sword begun to drop rapidly, aiming for Vash’s neck. The Swiss rolled away from the deadly blade. The sword met the floorboards with a loud thud. Vash noticed he was just within arm reach of the assailant’s legs. He seized this opportunity and grabbed the imposter’s right leg. Vash quickly dragged the leg towards his body on the floor.

The assailant fell clumsily, hitting their jaw against Vash’s bedframe. A crunching sound filled the air, making Vash’s stomach turn. With his opponent on the floor, Vash seized the opportunity to dispose of the weapon that the murderer aimed to eliminate him with. The Swiss scrambled to his feet and grabbed the polished sword. Using the handle, he shattered the window and threw the sword into the hungry flames down below.

Vash turned quickly, noticing the perpetrator slowly getting back to his feet. The white masked man eyes met Vash’s eyes, his stare remorseless. The two broke their stare from each other’s eyes and looked towards the rife that laid in a mess of plaster.

Vash quickly begun to dash towards his gun, his pursuer right on his heels. The two men lunged for the rifle, landing against the timber floor with an echoing thump that rivaled the crackling of the flames outside. Vash quickly darted his hands towards the rifle, noticing from the corner of his eye that the trespasser was like a mirror to his movements.

Vash grasped onto the stock of the gun, curling his fingers for a firm grasp. He pulled the gun away from the assailants grip, rolling onto his knees in a swift movement, Vash quickly decided against aiming and pumped the room full of bullets.

Vash jumped to his feet, ignoring the growing cloud of smoke above the two. Vash kicked the man where the bullets had hit him in the chest. The Swiss pointed the gun towards the man’s head.

“Why are you here?” He growled, only to get a groaned response from the intruder. Vash snarled and kicked the man again, sending the body through the air. “What brought you here!” Vash demanded, “Tell me!”

“To–“ The limp man on his floor trailed off, his breath became more husky, to the extend that his voice modifier was making an eerie noise.

“To what?”

“To kill you!” The man finally yelled, his voice modifier breaking into an almost unrecognizable slur. “I was assigned to kill you!”

Vash slowly walked towards the crippled body on the floor, keeping a steady aim on the man. “On whose orders?” Vash asked, his green eyes narrowing at the weaken man.

The man on the floor must have smirked at Vash’s question. “Are you really that stupid?” He snickered. “There is no way you will find out on who the Nine Lovely Killers are.”

Vash felt an urge to laugh tickle the back of his throat. What a pathetic name, they may as well be called the ‘Nine Stupid Little Killers.’ Vash continued his slow walk towards the crippled man. He soon found himself towering above the man, his gun keeping a steady aim at the man’s chest.

“I know more methods to make you confess then you do murdering somebody,” Vash snarled, placing his foot on the failed murderers shoulder, forcing the masked man to lie flat on the floor.

Vash quickly bent down, grabbing the fabric turned grey by the smoke from the hungry flames. He ripped of the ski mask and threw it into the flames that now were knocking on his bedroom door. He felt a wave of shock travel across his chest. A tuff of white hair quickly revealed itself in the mask’s place, and red eyes stared at Vash’s now shocked face.

“Prussia?” He hissed from between his teeth, quickly gathering himself from the wave of shock that grasped him only seconds ago. “Prussian, who are these Nine Stupid Little Killers?” Vash demanded, forcing his foot harder on the intruder’s shoulder.

Gilbert weakly moved his free hand and rubbed his quickly bruising jaw. “Say. Vash, you’ve got quite the strength for a thin man like you.” Gilbert teased.

“Call me by my formal name!” Vash snapped at the man below him. “And don’t bother trying to avoid my questions!”

“Well, Switzerland,” Gilbert said sarcastically, pushing Vash’s buttons further. “Despite you somehow beating me and my awesome moves, you will not defeat all of us.” Gilbert let out a husky cough, the smoke finally invading his lungs.

The smoke now consumed most of the air in Vash’s room, weakening the Swiss who held the Prussian at his mercy. Vash felt his knees begin to quiver under his weight. His breaths became more shallow and desperate. The Swiss finally fell back, landing to the side of the Prussian. Vash felt a cough escape his jaw. He looked up to see the Prussian sitting up. Gilbert lunged towards Vash, his hands gripping around his neck.

Vash felt the weight of the man topple on him. Vash rapidly moved his hands to the Prussian’s, trying to pry the tight grasp from his neck. Gilbert’s response to Vashs feeble attempts to break free of his hands was to press harder against Vash’s throat. Vash, in desperation, flung his leg up and kicked Gilbert, sending him to a nearby wall.

Vash begun to gasp for breath, but instead of clean air, only smoke and ash filled his airways. Vash continued to cough and spatter. He fell to the floor, facing the man who just tried to kill him for a second time. Gilbert seemed unresponsive, making Vash smile. The world seemed to be silent, other then the crackling of the flames that were now feeding on his house. The smoke seemed to blend together to an eternal black. He heard a loud crash and figures rush over to his and Gilbert’s limp, exhausted bodies.

“Not… him,” Vash wheezed. “He… tried to kill me.” Vash felt hands grab him before he faded into a deep slumber.


	2. Chapter 2

It seemed like forever ago since Vash had woken up in this hellhole of a hospital.

The Swiss-man sat on the edge of the cot, looking at the grey vinyl floor. His chest felt as if someone was sitting on it and refusing to leave. With each shaky breath he took, he felt all his muscles ache. He let out a sigh, ignoring the pain that racked his body. He ran his hand through his unwashed, blond hair, fingers occasionally getting snagged on knots and tangles.

His sight drifted to the ceiling, observing the rust-coloured stains.

‘I wonder how they even got up there,’ Vash wondered, his eyebrows knitting together. He finally let out a huff, blowing some strands of hair.

“Mr. Switzerland?” A deep voice asked, disrupting Vash’s thoughts.

Vash quickly moved his head towards the voice, to the man standing between the light blue curtains. He was young, with dark and spiked hair jutting in all kinds of directions. “I’m glad to say the doctor says you are in a well-enough condition to leave… But—“

“But what!?” Vash snapped, his voice bouncing off the feeble plaster walls.

“But the detective doesn’t want you to leave until she speaks to you,” the nurse replied quietly, “or want you to have any visitors.”

“Can’t I just see my sister?” Vash asked harshly. He slid off the cot, sending shocks of pain through his thighs. His boots met the grey vinyl floor, making a soft clank noise.

“Mr. Switzerland, I’m sorry,” The nurse responded, “I have to keep you here.” 

“Just send her through! I want to see her!” Vash demanded, his voice rising with each word that passed his lips.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Switzerland, but I assure you the detective will be here very soon,” he assured emptily.

The nurse drew the surrounding curtains, the looped hooks screeching against the steel rod. Vash’s eyes narrowed at the small opening the nurse fled from. Vash shook his head, ignoring his stiff neck muscles. He moved his hawk like glare to the vinyl flooring again, before beginning to walk along it, up and back, as if he was caged in that small area. Questions began to consume his mind.

What was Prussia’s Motivation?

Who are the other eight killers?

Do the killers have similar or different motivations?  
Are they all nations or are they humans too?

How did someone manipulate eight others to join them in… This?

Are they a team?

Vash couldn’t shake the questions from his mind; they seemed to tangle with one another like a spider web, each question hung from the depths of his mind to the back of his ears, taunting him.

He had to find the answers before they drove him insane.

A familiar screeching noise filled the dull air. Vash snapped his head around, his hair flying. A hefty woman stood where the nurse only disappeared moments ago, hair was in a tight bun, slicked back as if she used cans of hair spray. Her round amber eyes were heavily lined with eyeliner, making it seem that she was eternally tired. Her skin was like a roasted chestnut. She wore a dark pinstripe suit that seemed too small for her thick build. She held a battered notebook that looked like someone dragged it behind a car for a day.

“Hello, Mr. Switzerland. I am Inspector Isabelle Gruzental, and I am going to ask you some questions,” she announced, her Louisianan-American accent thick with each of her words.

Vash turned his body slowly, a soft clanking noise filling the air as he moved to face the detective. He stared at the woman, observing her as if she was an intruder.

“How long will it take?” Vash demanded.

“However long it takes. It depends if you’re willing to co-operate or not.”

Vash’s eyebrows knitted together and his lip curled slightly. He watched the inspector flick through pages of her notebook, glimpsing the scribbles that threatened to blend together flash by. She finally folded the notebook to an untainted page. Isabelle dug into her breast pocket, drawing a chewed, blue pen.  
Isabelle drew her gaze from the battered book and forced a smile at Vash. “Tell me from the start,” she said, placing the pen on the lined paper.

“Everything?” Vash asked, his eyes narrowing at the woman. 

Isabelle seemed to ignore Vash as she moved towards a plastic chair that sat neatly against the curtain. She sat down, the plastic groaning under her weight. She placed the notebook on her leg and trailed her eyes back up to Vash. Her stare was hard and cold.

A small grin grew across her lips as a single word passed her lips: 

“Everything.”

Vash frowned and tore his sight away from the woman. He began to recite the events that had unfolded yesterday, counting each event with his fingers. The soft noise of the pen scratching onto lined paper woman irritated him, his lip curling. 

As he drew his recount to a close, Vash looked back at inspector. Her eyebrows came together, her eyes darting from side to side on the page.

“Mr. Switzerland, I must ask…” Isabelle looked up towards Vash; confusion etched into the frown of her face. “What exactly kills someone like you?”

“We never truly die,” Vash muttered, folding his arms across his chest, “unless our land is no longer under what we represent—“

“Then what’s the point of killing you?” Isabelle asked, vaguely condescending.

“I was getting to that,” Vash said hotly. He cleared his throat. “Our physical forms can ‘die’ if it’s under enough stress. It can take decades, centuries even, for another representative to surface, and most of the time, we’re not the same person. During the period that a representative is dead, the land and the people are more vulnerable. Everything ranging from politics to the economy can start falling apart. I assume it would make us easier to invade.”

“Assume?”  
Vash shrugged at the woman and looked at her. “I wasn’t around—or I was too young to remember when this was a common tactic. I’m going off what I heard”

Isabelle raised an eyebrow before scribbling down what Vash had said. “I want to ask if there are any missing nations that you know of?”

“Three,” Vash said. “America, Ukraine and Hong Kong.”

“Do you think that they have anything to do with Prussia and the other eight associates?”

Vash’s eyes widen as shock pulsed through his chest, how was he so oblivious to this? All three of them went missing not that long ago, and despite countless efforts by police and nations alike, they had seemed to disappear off the surface of the earth.

“Shouldn’t you have been briefed on this before?” Vash asked, his eyes narrowing towards the large inspector.

Isabelle remained silent. Vash continued to stare at her, why would she ask such a stupid question? 

“I want your opinion,” she finally answered.

“Well then, yes!” Vash snarled, his voice echoing in the silent hospital wing.

Isabelle glared at Vash, slowly bringing up her finger to her mouth. She quickly dropped her hand and looked back over her untidy notes. She traced a finger along the page, humming as she analyzed the notes.

“Do you have any idea why Mr. Prussia may attack you?” Isabelle asked, eyes never leaving the page.

“None,” Vash said, walking slowly towards the split where the two curtains met. He feathered his fingers between it, feeling the soft fabric rub against his fingertips. Shivers ran down his fingertips and along his arm. He finally grabbed the curtain and drew it across, ignoring the noise

“What are you doing?” Isabelle scowled.

“I need some air!” Vash snapped back at her.

Isabelle’s nose crinkled. “Fine, leave.” She muttered something under her breath as she stood, but Vash wasn’t sure if he had heard right.

The inspector folded her shabby notebook and walked toward the split in the curtain, her heels smacking against the vinyl flooring. She passed Vash and turned, barely-hidden contempt plastered on her face.

“Pleasure speaking to you,” she mustered before finally turning around, walking away from the lone Swiss-man.

Vash frowned, crossing his arms against his chest. He watched the inspector walk away.

She didn’t turn as she said, “I assume you’ll be at the World Meeting tomorrow in Berlin. I advise you tell them that they are all under surveillance for the next week.”

Vash’s eyebrows knitted together as he tore his sight from the hefty woman, he looked down at his shoes.

As she had stood, Detective Gruzental had breathed, “Don’t come crying to me when your family is dead.”

Vash clenched his jaw and hoped dearly he had misheard, for both their sakes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this was late lol


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, this hasn't been beta'd, it will update as soon as it has though!

The room was eerily silent, only the soft ticking of the clock ringing through the airwaves. Nobody dared to say a word, but rather they stared at Vash, their eyes twisted with confusion. 

Vash kept his eyes on the Pecan table, waiting for someone to break the grim atmosphere. The clock, however, peacefully continued to tick. Vash trailed his sight from the table, ignoring the bewildered eyes that never ceased to gaze at him. He found the clock, made out of brown mahogany and roman numerals deeply etched into its face. 

Vash watched the decorated steel hands, waiting for it to move slightly along the wooden clock face. He rested his elbow on the table, before placing his chin against his cold hand. He felt pressure slightly press against his elbow. Vash silently let a yawn escape his jaw, flexing his fingers to catch the warm breath. Vash kept his focus on the clock, patiently waiting for the arms to move sluggishly move.

A loud cough quickly shattered the airways, causing several eyes to pry their sight away from Vash. The Swiss man quickly fixed his posture, snapping his head towards where the source of the dry cough seemed to come from.

Standing above the pecan table, hand folded against his well-built chest, was Ludwig. His thin wired framed glasses sat nicely on his crooked nose. His baby blue eyes seemed focused of the centre of the room. He wore a dark grey suit, but seemed to have removed the jacket. His teal tie hung neatly above his brown leather belt. He relaxed his stance and pushed his thin glasses up his nose. 

“I’d like to welcome you all and thank you for coming on such short notice” he said gruffly “Unfortunately, this is not a meet up, this to address the missing nations and the recent attack on Switzerland” Ludwig gestured towards Vash briefly before quickly placing it back to his side. Low murmurs filled the room, making Ludwig’s eye twitch. “Quiet! Like I said, we are not here to socialize!” Ludwig yelled. 

The noise ceased as if someone set off a gun in the room. The German took a shaky breath before continuing on with his monologue. “We are here to discuss security measures to protect ourselves from-“ Ludwig paused, before sniffing loudly. He brought his hand to his nose before taking slower breaths. He moved his hand from his face and licked his lips. He looked up, his blue eyes now glassy. “- Protect ourselves from these killers” He finally finished.

The German’s actions struck Vash, as he felt a wave of stress travel across his ribs. He turned his head slightly towards his side to see his sister sitting there quietly, watching Ludwig as he spoke. She was fumbling with a plastic pen between her fingers, yet her hands were careful not to go near the silver nib. Vash begun to wonder how she must felt, knowing that he was attacked.  
Vash let out a soft puff, before trailing his eyes back towards Ludwig. “- Now I want to discuss possible security measures, of course these are merely suggestions and I you will need to discuss with your boss the measures you would like to take.” He finished. Ludwig looked around the room, scanning at all the personifications that sat in the room “If you wish to speak, please put up your hand up in the air and wait until you are formally addressed” He requested softly.

Vash quickly flung up his hand, only for it to get lost in the array of other hands. Vash let out a low snarl as his eyebrows knitted together, he already knew of the wait that awaited him.

“Australia, your suggestion” Ludwig announced, pointing towards his left. Vash’s eyes trailed where he seemed to be pointing, seeing the Australian at the end. He had a dark tan and messy chestnut blonde hair, from what Vash assumed was from all the sport he played. His forest green eyes didn’t seem to lack the bright, childish glaze that they seemed to maintain throughout the long period of time Vash had known him. “It’s simple, I say we hide,” He suggested “They can’t kill us if we’re hidden-”

“We don’t know if they’ve actually killed anyone Nicolas!” Exclaimed a new modulated voice; cutting off Nicolas. Vash, along with several other nations, tore their sight from the Australian, noticing that a new body stood from his wooden seat. His hands rested against the table, making his back arch slightly. His long sandy blonde hair seemed to frame his slightly rounded features and a curl seemed to spiral out from his scalp. His blue violet eyes peered through his hair. He lifted one of his hands and pushed up his rounded glasses. 

“Mate, how ‘ya going to explain that three people are missing? Chances are that they’re dead and we haven’t found their bodies” Nicolas rebutted

“They’re still alive!” Matthew argued, his voice trembling with anger. “And I will believe that until I see the bodies with my own two eyes.”

From the corner of Vash’s eye, he noticed a subtle movement. The Swiss man trailed his emerald eyes towards the movement, noticing that a woman with recently cut short ashy hair had stood up. Her eyes were an icy blue, as if winter itself had tangled itself within her irises. Bruise-like bags dropped under her eyes, as if the stress of her sister and Alfred had been eating away at her. She stood rashly, her eyebrows knitting together and her dry lips parting. Vash waited for something to pass her lips, however, she quickly dragged back down to her seat by her brother.

Her brother was big-boned, his body often hidden by large coats and scarves. His hair-colour was similar to Natalya’s. His eyes were also an icy-blue yet, his eyes looked as if someone tangled violet yarn with them. 

Vash begun to wonder if Natalya or Ivan knew something, it couldn’t be a coincidence that two people close to Natalya seem just to vanish off the Earth. Perhaps the fact that one other nation was missing could be a cover-up. 

“Everybody shut up!” Ludwig’s booming voice disrupted Vash’s thoughts. Vash quickly snapped his head towards the German, whose eye seemed to be twitching at the slightest. He took in a deep breath and gestured towards the Canadian, whose face was plastered in shock.

“Canada, I must remind you that this is a security meeting not debate” Ludwig reiterated “Unless you have a suggestion, then please share it”

“I… uh…” Matthew stuttered, before sitting back down into his seat slowly. He pulled the chair towards the table, a soft dragging sound filling the air. “Sorry Nick” He muttered softly before looking up towards the Australian and forcing a small smile. Nicolas looked at Matthew and raised a hand slightly, as if he was saying it was okay.

“Australia, please continue,” Ludwig said, gesturing back towards Nicolas.

“Right! Before my mate Matt interrupted me, I was going to say we should hide at places the killers wouldn’t find us!” 

“Is that it?” Ludwig asked as his eyebrows knitted together.

“Pretty much” 

Ludwig let out an angry huff. He brought his hand to the bridge of his nose before muttering something under his breath. Ludwig was about to open his mouth before a soft knock at the large door. “Come in” Ludwig said, his voice dripping in anger. 

When the walnut door opened, a post girl with frizzy black hair tied to the base of her head revealed herself. “I got a package for Ivan Braginski?” She yelped.

“Oh of course!” The Russian man beamed. He stood from his chair, as his sister begun to watch him cautiously. Ivan walked quickly from his place from behind the table, rushing to meet the woman who waited patiently at the door. 

Vash’s mind begun to wonder, observing Ivan’s movements. Did he have involvement in these kidnappings? Was he really playing an act along? Does he know where these nations are kept? Vash’s eyebrows knitted together, as he watched Ivan hurry back with a large decorated box.

The box was pink, with white frills hanging from the edges of the lid. He grasped held the box close to his chest. Why was he receiving a box now? Why not when he was at home in Russia?

He placed the box onto the table. Ivan inspected the pink box curiously, commenting on how heavy the box was.

“It smells foul” Natalya commented softly, her eyes focused on the box.

“You should open it now!” A sudden voice yelped from across the room. Vash turned his head in disgust, now seeing another person wanted to make their presence known. He noticed that now that Feliciano is willing to contribute to this mess of a meeting. “It must be important if they couldn’t wait until you got home to deliver it to you!”

Vash frowned, the Italian brought up a good point. He directed his sight back towards Ivan, whose face was still twisted with confusion. Ivan looked towards the Italian and back towards the box. The Russian trailed his fingers along the edge of the lid, the lace frills running along his finger as if it was water.

“Russia -” Ludwig begun, his voice shaking “Do you want to open it?”

Ivan looked down at the box, his eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. He slid his fingers underneath the lid, the lace ribbon getting caught under his fingers. He started to pull the lid open. Quickly, a stench filled the air. It was as if someone had hidden rotting meat in the box and never bothered to remove it for weeks. Ivan bit his lip and curled his face. He turned his head over his shoulder, before squinting his eyes towards the box. 

Quickly, Ivan flipped the lid off the box. As quick as a viper, Natalya jumped out of her chair. Her chair hit the carpeted floor with a loud clatter. “Polina? Alfred?” She yelled, her voice dripping in fear. As her words filled the air, people begun to scatter. Screams and shouts quickly begun to echo in the air, the room was as if people placed a bunch of elephants were placed into the room.

Vash leaped out of his chair, grabbling Elise and dragging her behind him. “Vash! What’s happening?” She squeaked as Vash spun around. Vash knelt down to the Liechtensteiner’s level, grabbing her arms. He dug his fingernails into her cotton sleeves. “Just get out of here, I don’t want to risk your safety,” He ordered. Vash let go of Elise. His sister looked at him, her eyes beginning to water.

“Please Vash ju-“ 

“Go!” Vash demanded.

Elise blinked her eyes, bringing her hand to her face. Tears slowly begun to roll down her face, catching the little mascara she wore and dragged it down her face. She turned around, her body trembling with tears. She quickly disappeared into the large crowd.

Vash let out a huff and leaped onto the pecan table, his heavy footing rattling the glasses filled with water. He noticed that Ivan and Natalya were in the corner, trembling in each other’s arms. Ivan’s jaw seemed to be moving; yet his voice seemed to be muted by the commotion near the door. Ludwig seemed to be fumbling with his phone, struggling to punch in the numbers with the touch screen.

Vash finally brought himself above the box. He felt his stomach wrench and fear plus across his chest when he saw what rested in the highly decorated box. Resting on brown leather with the faded number fifty was a severed arm. The hand was curled and each finger was missing the uppermost joint. The skin was a dark blue with black patches littering its surface. The arm also seemed to lack any form of muscles, as the skin seemed to contract around the bone. Sprinkled on top of the arm, as if it was a cake, were half dead lotus flowers.

Vash crouched down above the arm as he dug into his pocket for something, anything, to inspect the arm with. From under his fingertips, he felt a soft, crumpled material. Vash quickly removed it from his pocket, revealing it to be a tissue. Vash placed two fingers behind the tissue, before finally touching the severed arm.

The arm seemed to give way from underneath Vash’s fingers, the fragile skin threating to snap under his fingers at any moment. Vash’s face curled with disgust as he inspected the arm. With each press, an unusual squishing feeling made Vash’s stomach turn. 

From the corner of Vash’s eye, he noticed that a ball of notebook paper seemed to be hidden away from sight. Vash carefully lifted the tissue covered fingers from the arm and hovered them towards the hacked at limps. Vash slowly lifted up the mutilated fingers, feeling waves of disgust pulse along his ribs. Vash slowly patted the note from between the limp grasp. As the paper rolled out, Vash quickly observed that the paper had a small amounts of blood splattered along its crippled form. 

Vash snatched up the note up from the box, feeling the rough surface poke at his fingertips. Vash traced his thumb along the surface, feeling for and area to carefully open the note. When his thumb seemed to find where the two ends of the papers met, he slowly begun to unravel it. As the paper slowly unfolded from the crumbed ball, Vash saw that somebody had neatly written a note in a blue, sparkly gel pen. 

Vash rain his hand across the paper, unfolding the paper until it was back to a thin sheet. Vash’s emerald eyes widen with confusion and disgust. He looked back at Ludwig, whose eyebrows where furrowed together in confusion. 

“What does it say?” He asked shakily

Vash took a deep breath and bit his lip. His eyes trailed back down towards the note before Vash ran his thumb over the rough surface.

“It says: Child, don’t try to find our home. Isn’t your family too perfect for our hands to roam? If you play our game, you’ll throw it all away. I just can’t wait. Xx Innocence.”

Vash felt stress slowly begin to consume his chest. A threat, it couldn’t be directed towards him. He was supposed to be dead according to the killers, it was directed towards Ivan. It had to be! But what if Gilbert was a pawn? Doomed to fail from the beginning? Vash felt the anxiety slowly begin to eat at him; he had to find these stupid killers, before they finally consume all of his thoughts.

“Xx Innocence? That’s it?” Ludwig muttered, disrupting Vash’s thoughts. Vash looked up at Ludwig, tearing his sight from the dreaded note.

“I’d assume it’d be a codename, it wouldn’t be as easy as catching you idio-“

“Enough about that!” Ludwig snapped, cutting Vash off “It turns out these people do have murderous intentions and we should focus on capturing them, not my brother”

Vash looked to his side, noticing that Natalya had left the ballroom. Ivan stood still, looking out the window. His stare seemed dazed, as seemed focused on what is occurring outside. “The Police is here” He muttered, his voice unusually flat. “I suggest we leave” 

Vash stood up, shoving the note into his pocket. He turned around and walked across the table, his shoes echoing each of his shallow steps. He leapt off the table and landed on the floor, feeling a small shock like pain tickle at his ankles. He walked towards the Walnut door, wrapping his hands around the cold, painted gold door handle. He turned the handle and drew it open, amplifying the commotion in the hallway.

Vash turned around to see the men behind him. He gestured towards the open doorway. “After you, I insist” He said harshly. The two men looked at each other, before obeying Vash’s orders. Vash walked behind them, before quickly feeling weight nearly pushing him off his feet. He turned his head around to notice that Elise had tightly wrapped her arms around his waist, so tightly as if her arms where pythons.

“Vash! Are you okay? What was in the box?” Elise stammered, looking up at him with her red, puffy eyes. Vash slowly turned his body around, and stroked her flaxen hair, surprised of how little knots it has.

“I’ll tell you when we get home, but I need your notebook and pen.” He muttered. Elise slowly removed her arms from around his waist before a single word passed her jaw. 

“Y-Yes”

She vanished back into the crowd of distressed nations. Vash took in a deep breath, ignoring his chest aching from the stress. 

“Everyone! I want you to listen to me!” Vash yelled, his voice echoing above all the distressed chatter. All the nations turned around, facing the Swiss man. Elise returned back to Vash’s side, her new, pink journal in-between her hands. She handed it to Vash, as well as the plastic pen she was playing with earlier. Vash held up the journal in the air. “I am going to hand around this notebook and a pen, I want you all to write the word ‘Innocence’ in it and then your name next to it! I know it sounds ridiculous, but we need to start finding the killers before they put an end to us!” He demanded. 

Vash turned to his side, noticing that a man with natural light brown hair stood next to him. He turned around, his forest brown eyes looking at Vash curiously. This man went by the name Toris Laurinaitis or the representative of Lithuania. Toris looked at Vash and then looked back down towards the bright pink journal. Vash offered the book to the Lithuanian. Toris grabbed the journal and the plastic pen, tearing his sight from Vash “Thank you!” He said kindly, before opening the notebook and scribbling in the required details.

Vash turned back to Elise, who now seemed engaged at picking the nail polish off her fingers, she seemed calmer then she did only moments ago. Vash crouched down and took her unexpectedly into his arms. He had begun to stroke her soft, blonde hair, careful not to unintentionally pull out the violet ribbon that sat neatly in her hair. “I promise,” He whispered into her ear “We’d walk away from this, like any other time”

Elise wrapped her warm arms from underneath his armpits. She placed her chin onto Vash’s shoulder, digging it deeply into his shoulders.

“I trust you” She whispered softly into his ear, her breath warm on his ear shell.


	4. Chapter 4

 

Vash sat on the wiry carpet, feeling it poke through his pyjama pants. He ran a hand through his hair, feeling it snag and pull as his cold fingers trailed along his scalp. He rested his hand on his palm, feeling his elbow dig into his thigh. He kept his eyes focused on the journal, that was lit by a failing torchlight that rested above the spine. The once gleaming white pages of the journal was scribbled with blue ink of Vash’s pen. His eyes would linger on a single line at the time, studying each letter. Yet, now his eyelids would slowly droop, and the words would blur together if he didn’t blink for what seemed every two seconds.

 

He was up to the Belgian or Mila Van de Broeck, she was more commonly known as. Vash felt his eyebrows knit together. He trailed his sight back to the scrunched note he found accompanied by the arm. He moved his hand to pick up the flashlight, feeling the cool metal press against his rough skin. He quickly moved the flashlight towards the note, making it hover above it. He began to study the bubbly handwriting that seemed to gleam from under his torch. Vash bit his lip as he trailed both his sight and the dim light back to where Mila had wrote her name and the word Innocence.

 

It was eerie how similar the handwriting was to one another. From the large circles that rested above the I’s of the words to the small loop nearing the bottom of each R. Vash felt a lazy smile tug at the corner of his lips, it seems like he has found his first suspect. Vash felt a sudden wave of relief wash over him, maybe now he could get some sleep. He felt a small yawn escape his jaw as he fell back, banging his back against the wooden frame of the bed. He felt his eyes slowly close, as if they were made of lead.

 

However, a soft voice suddenly filled the air. Vash snapped his eyes open, quickly leaping to his knees. He looked over the hotel bed that he had claimed, seeing a black silhouette sit at the end of it.

“Vash?” The soft voice asked, cracking softly from what he assumed to be from lack of water. Vash quickly concluded that the voice belonged to his sister.

 

“Elise…” He muttered “Why aren’t you asleep?”

 

The black silhouette crawled over his bed, towards the small strip of carpet where Vash was working. Her face slowly came into view, lit only by the dull light of Vash’s old flashlight. Her eyes were half closed; suggesting that she only just woke up. Her flaxen hair was tangled in a tight bound on the side of her hair, as if a bird tried to make a nest as she slumbered.

 

“I was, but I woke up” She said before she fell to her belly. “But I saw your light was on, so I wanted to help you” She forced a weak smile at Vash, making him frown slightly.

 

“I guess we can work on it a little more,” He said gruffly. He turned his sight back to the journal that rested neatly on the coffee-coloured carpet. “All I’ve worked out is that Innocence’s handwriting is like Belgium’s,” He muttered. “So we’ll need to –“

Vash felt a light tap on his shoulder, repeatedly patting him like he was a dog. Vash turned his sight back towards Elise as he cocked his head slightly.

“May I have my journal?” Elise asked softly. Vash nodded slightly before picking up the journal and the flashlight. He passed the items to Elise, who quickly snatched it out of his hands. She took the torch into her hand before flicking through the pages.

“Denmark, Iceland, Norway, Canada, Japan, China, Veneziano, Taiwan -” She continued to list each nation. Elise's voice cracked slightly from her dehydration. She seemed to drone on, pausing between each name as she studied the handwriting. She turned her head before pointing towards the note that rested near Vash’s foot.

 

Vash sighed as he handed her the crumbled piece of paper. He felt her long nail scratch at his palm. He quickly snatched his hands away from her before beginning to rub it with his other hand. Elise looked at Vash, her eyebrows knitting together. 

“A-Are you okay?” She asked softly as she ran her thumbs over Innocence’s crunched up note.

 

“Fine… Just continue” Vash muttered. Elise looked at him, her eyes filled with confusion. She shook her head, the dreadlock that resided at the side of her head of her shaking slightly from her sudden movement. She moved her sight back to Innocence’s note.

 

“I don’t think the killers are you’re only worry if Gruzental knows that you’ve taken this from the arm” Elise whispered under her breath. Vash knitted his eyebrows together, letting out a huff of anger. Of course she’d make a witty comment like that.

“I knew I’ve seen this handwriting before!” She suddenly exclaimed quietly. “Just… I didn’t expect it to be similar to three peoples writing”

 

Vash turned his head, his face twisted with confusion.

“Did you say three people?” He asked, his voice dripping in confusion. Elise turned her head towards Vash, before she made a small nod.

“Belgium, like you said, Taiwan and Canada.” She listed. “Here, have a look.”

 

Vash quickly snatched the flashlight from Elise's hand and turned the journal towards him. He positioned the dim light above the writing, his emerald eyes scanning the scribbles.

 

The first one he came across was Matthew’s; who’s writing sat neatly between the various scribbles from the others. Vash quickly picked up the note, careful not to tear the now delicate paper. He placed the note next to the book, studying the two different handwritings. Vash noted the eerie similarities between the ‘M’s’, ‘N’s’ and ‘A’s’ of the handwritings.. Vash frown deepened, as he trailed his sight back to Elise.

 

“If he was Innocence, it would explain his outburst in the meeting today,” Vash murmured. “He down putted Australia’s idea –“

 

“Wouldn’t you have done that if I was missing?” Elise cut him off as she cocked her head slightly at him. Her eyebrows knitted together as her wide, green eyes stared at him. Vash felt like he choked on his own words, caught in a web of ignorance.

 

“Besides, I doubt it is Canada. He has been distressed since America went missing... To the extend that he is spending more time with Russia and Belarus.” Elise continued. "In hopes that they will find him." She trailed her sight from Vash, setting her eyes onto the edge of the blankets that rested neatly on the stiff mattress. She stretched her hand out to tug away at the blankets, only to freeze in place.

 

“Russia and Belarus…” She muttered. “What if Belarus is Innocence?” She turned her sight towards Vash, her face now twisted in confusion. “It makes sense! Belarus has been acting more reserve than normal. Anything seems to trigger her, even the arm, who seems to be America. She even cut her hair!” She said, listing each of her points by tapping her fingers.

 

Vash cocked his head. He slowly sat down on his bed, feeling it struggle to give way to his weight.

“I think she is linked to the killers. But I don’t think she’s Innocence. Innocence is ruthless. Belarus may not be afraid to kill, but possibly kill and slice up her own sister or lover? She isn’t that cold, Vash.” Vash muttered before letting out a small sigh. 

 

“Hmm, you make a good point” Elise muttered, “We’ll need to question her, as of now, she’s our prime suspect”

 

“What about Belgium though? Or Taiwan?” Vash hissed. Elise quickly hushed him, her eyebrows knitting together in frustration. “

You’re getting too loud, we’re not the only ones in this hotel!” She squeaked, “For all we know one of the killers are here too”

 

Vash let out a small huff of anger before folding his hands over his chest. He moved his sight towards the plaster wall, which seemed to be littered with holes. Vash hated to know what causes the shallow holes. He thought back to the tattered state his house must be in. The once proud structure must now seem like a charcoaled skeleton. It would of had the plaster and fallen planks of wood hiding his floor from the world. He imagined all the furniture that would have black marks stretching across their surface, as they were decaying away. All because that pathetic idiot tried to kill him, tried to eliminate him from this ‘game’ that they are playing.

 

Suddenly, an idea begun to bubble from the back of Vash’s mind; trying to poke through Vash’s thoughts. The idiot was still in hospital in Berlin, where the meeting was held. He could probably sneak into his room and see if he could wrangle some information out of Gilbert. For all he knew, they could be wrong about Belarus, and it would be someone unexpected.

 

He turned to Elise, who now was underneath his own bed sheets, presumably because she had gotten cold. “I’m heading out.” He said, before he moved towards his black, worn leather suitcase that Elise had loaned him.

 

“Now?” Elise yelped “Vash! You haven’t slept.”

Vash ignored his sister, tearing his suitcase open. The rough zipper noise filled the stale air. He dug his hand into the suitcase, feeling the soft material of his uniform rub against the rough skin of his hand. He yanked it out his uniform, the green material crumbled in his hand.

 

“I’ll meet you at the airport” Vash said as he stood up, his knees knocking the suitcase over. “I promise you I’ll be with you when our flight to Austria, I’m not about to waste another hundred dollars on a flight ticket.” He said as he walked over to the bathroom.

 

A single thought crossed Vash’s mind as he rushed over to bathroom. A thought that seemed to ring in his ears and no matter what, he couldn’t stop it playing like a broken record in his mind.

 

What the fuck have I gotten myself into?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just some speculation. Please, I really would like to hear your theories on the killers, it'd really make my day if you wanted to tell me your thoughts!


End file.
